


T'hy'la--Brothers

by pureimagination



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU of an AU really, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Depictions of Death, Gen, Genocide, Only one chapter deals with Tarsus IV explicitly though, Rape, Starvation, Tarsus IV, jim and spock are brothers, more tags and triggers coming, rape tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pureimagination/pseuds/pureimagination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jim, neglected by his mother and abused by his stepfather, sees a chance to escape through a human-Vulcan exchange program, he takes it, and his journey is forever changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escape

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been sitting in a notebook for months and I figured it was time to type it up and show the world. Only generally beta'd, so tell me if there are glaring mistakes! Enjoy!

 

Nearly three months of testing. Three months of proving that he could think logically, creatively…in short, that he could think on the same level as Vulcan. Now, it all came down to three little numbers—his overall IQ scores. In order to qualify for the program he desperately desired to get into, he had to officially qualify as a genius with a score over 145.

 

“James Tiberius Kirk,” the Vulcan testing official called, and Jim stepped forward, biting his lip.

 

“You have passed all previous tests successfully. Although reckless, you have shown the physical resiliency necessary to live on Vulcan. You have also shown a rather extraordinary open-mindedness to other cultures. All that remains is your Intelligence Quotient score.” He pulled out a small envelope, opening it with the customary efficiency of his race.

 

In those pale folds rested Jim’s future. Either he remained here, stifled, unchallenged, and frightened, or he would go somewhere governed by logic, where he was safe only because anything else would be illogical, where he could actually be challenged. Jim’s heart slunk up to his throat and did its damnedest to break through his esophagus, even as his small intestine seemed to be trying to tangle itself around his large intestine.

 

“One hundred sixty-five.” There were several gasps from the human members of the panel, and Jim himself was dizzy with relief.

 

“Congratulations, James Kirk. You are, thus far, the only successful applicant to the Vulcan-human exchange program.” Jim grinned, nodding eagerly.

  
“Y-Yes, sir. Thank you for this opportunity, sir.” The head Vulcan nodded.

 

“You will be living with Ambassador Sarek, his wife Amanda Grayson, and his son Spock. With your IQ and logical reasoning skills, the board has decided to waive the parent agreement, especially as your mother is currently stationed off planet. The shuttle will depart in three days. Is there anyone you wish to have accompany you to Vulcan until your new family takes custody?”

 

“No, sir.” A few eyebrows raised, but nobody commented on the decision.

 

“Very well. Report to the shuttle at 0830 in three days with any belongings you desire to bring with you.” Jim nodded, swaying back and forth between his heels and the balls of his feet. Try as they might to later deny it, Jim would forever swear that, seeing the eager—nearly bouncing—eight year old, the stern Vulcan elder’s lips twitched faintly upward, eyes glinting with a smile that his training would never permit.

 

“You are dismissed, Mr. Kirk.”

  
“Yes, sir.” Jim bolted out of the school, whooping loudly enough to raise the dead.

 

“I did it! I’m outta here! Woo-hoo!” He ran all the way home, occasionally leaping up and shouting excitedly, but his exultation quieted the closer he came to home. Upon reaching the apparently affluent home, Jim crept in the front door, peering around and praying to whatever deity that could possibly give a shit that Frank was passed out.

 

“Jimmy boy, what the hell took you so long?” a low growl demanded, even as Frank’s girth managed to get off the sagging couch. The entire process resembled, Jim reflected bitterly, one of the ancient behemoths rising itself from the ocean.

 

“Sorry, sir. A teacher needed to speak to me.” Stay quiet. Stay small.

 

“What, you gettin’ in trouble ‘gain?” Frank demanded, lumbering towards the terrified blond.

 

“N-No sir. There was an extra cred—“ A thick, sweaty hand clamped around Jim’s neck, cutting off his words as the boy, gasping, was lifted off his feet, scrabbling for air.

 

“You lyin’ little shit,” Frank breathed, his beer scented breath wafting over Jim and causing him to gag violently.

 

“I bet you’re fucking the teacher, ain’t you, you little faggot? That’s what you like t’do, innit? My blue eyed whore.” Black spots were dancing in front of Jim’s view as he registered these words, shaking his head and fighting doubly hard.

 

Frank just slapped and dropped the boy, snatching off Jim’s trousers and holding the lad down. “Remember, Jimmy, not a sound, or no food for a week.”

 

Jim just swallowed and nodded, enduring the pain. _‘Three more days and I’m free,’_ he chanted until Frank was done, leaving Jim in a huddled ball on the floor, sobbing and dry heaving until he was able to drag himself upstairs and get cleaned up.

 

 

**_Three Days Later_ **

****

****

The bruises had mostly faded, at least, thanks to some mostly-broken dermal regenerators he’d managed to scrounge up a while back, even though his rear end was still tender. On the bright side, Frank was clean—the only people he fucked were Jim and Jim’s mother, and any STDs would have shown up on the health screening he’d been required to take for the exchange program.

 

But that was done now, Jim reminded himself. Now, he was standing in the shuttle bay, one ragged duffel bag tossed over his shoulder.

 

“Mr.Kirk. We shall be accompanying you to Vulcan. This way,” one of the elder Vulcans said, leading them to the shuttle. Obviously they noticed the fading purple bruising on his cheek and throat, but Vulcans, being a private race, decided not to inquire.

 

The ride to the warp-capable cruiser was quiet, and the actual trip to Vulcan even more so. Jim actually drifted asleep a few minutes in, not having slept well the last few nights. To his surprise, he awakened to find a blanket over him and a pillow under his head. He blinked up at his escorts curiously.

 

“It was illogical to leave you in discomfort when I possessed the means to alleviate it. Such unnecessary callousness would hardly be a proper welcome to our world.” It took Jim’s sleepy mind a moment to translate the long train of logic to “You looked uncomfortable and I wanted to help.” Then, of course, he had to translate his own reply.

 

“I am grateful,” Jim murmured, settling back into his blankets to nap for the rest of the journey, awakening at the slight shake from the elder.

 

“We have arrived, Mr.Kirk.” Jim swallowed tightly and nodded, neatly folding the blanket and handing it off as the attempted to fix his mussed hair. Walking to the shuttle, Jim kept fidgeting, until one of the less kindly Vulcans finally spoke.

 

“On Vulcan, serenity is valued more than appearances,” he—well, Jim would say he snapped the words, if not for the fact that he was Vulcan. Nevertheless, Jim ceased his fidgeting and sought to become a paragon of calm, only managing modest success.

 

They were greeted as soon as they left the shuttle by an auster-looking Vulcan (as if any others existed) with even sharper features than Jim’s escorts, a brown-haired human woman with coffee colored eyes who offered a startling contrast to her passive, still companion, her motions nervously expressive. Standing between the two was a young boy with Vulcan ears and eyebrows that framed startlingly round features. Although his expression was schooled just as a proper Vulcan’s should be, his anxiety showed plainly in his eyes.

 

“Ambassador Sarek. Greetings.”                 


	2. First Night and School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd, so let me know of any errors! Third chapter should be up soon!

 

Jim watched with wide, uncertain eyes as the kinder of his escorts held up a hand in greeting to the ambassador, fingers forming the gesture Jim knew was the ta’al. Sarek matched the gesture, and then turned to Jim, who attempted to mimic the Vulcans.

 

“I am James Kirk,sir,” he greeted, still struggling to make the ta’al. “I, uh, go by Jim.” He flushed as his attempt at the welcoming hand sign failed miserably, and the human woman laughed, crouching down to Jim’s level and holding out a hand.

 

“Hello, Jim. I am Amanda, Ambassador Sarek’s wife. You are going to be living with us. Vulcans do not shake hands, but we can.” Jim grinned and nodded, shaking her hand. She smiled back, but frowned, pulling at the collar of Jim’s shirt to see the bruise covering his neck.

 

“Jim, sweetie, what’s this?” Jim shrugged, tugging his shirt back up and worrying at his lip.

 

“Just clumsy, ma’am.” She eyed him dubiously, glancing up at her husband, who just raised an eyebrow. Sighing, Amanda nodded and gestured to the young Vulcan hovering nearby.

 

“Jim, this is my son, Spock. He’s roughly your age, so you two will get along well, I think.” Jim smiled and held up his best attempt at a ta’al. Chuckling, Amanda gently adjusted his fingers until  the gesture was corrected. Jim smiled gratefully.

 

“Greetings, Spock.”

 

“Greetings, Jim. For all the stillness of his features, Jim could have sworn there was a slight smile in those dark eyes.

 

 

Later that night, Jim and Spock were both tucked into bed in the room they shared, listening to the conversation between Amanda and Sarek.

 

“Just _clumsy_? Oh, come on, Sarek! How did the doctors not see through that?”

 

Do you wish to send the boy back?”

 

“What, back to the people that slapped, strangled, and God knows what else? Do not be _illogical_ , Sarek!” Jim sighed in his bed, sniffling a little.

 

“Jim?” Spock’s voice was soft, and Jim rolled over to meet his bright eyes.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Is it true? Did people hit you at your home?” Jim hesitated.

 

“Promise not to tell?”

 

“Okay. I promise.”

 

“Yeah. My stepdad hit me and…other things.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Hey Spock?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I don’t want to go back.”

 

“I don’t think Mother will send you back. I will as for you to stay.”

 

Jim sat up. “Really? Why?”

 

“You seem nice. I do not want you to be hurt.”

 

“Oh. Thanks. You seem nice, too.”

 

“Really? You do not think I am a…freak?”

 

“What?” Jim fully sat up, bringing his arms around his knees and watching Spock. “Of course not. People say that?”

 

“I am neither human nor Vulcan, and thus have no place in the world,” Spock recited, sitting up as well.

 

“That’s dumb,” Jim snorted, shaking his head. “Just because you’re special doesn’t mean you don’t belong. If anything, you belong to two races, not just one. That’s fantastic!”

 

Spock smiled at him hesitantly. “You think so?”

 

Jim nodded quickly, but any reply was interrupted by a quiet knock on their door.

 

“Boys, stop talking and go to sleep,” Amanda reprimanded, and both of them slunk beneath their covers.

 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yes Mother.”

 

 

**_Next Day at School_ **

****

Jim was only slightly surprised at the Vulcan method of education, thanks to his research on Vulcan culture and systems. Thankfully, he was only a year or so behind his Vulcan peers, something the computer predicted would be rectified in a few months, if Jim worked hard.

 

What did surprise him, though, was when they all took a break. Jim was working on keeping up a facsimile of passivity, but it broke when he saw three older Vulcan boys taunting Spock. Approaching slowly, Jim arrived just in time to hear Spock say “This is your 32nd attempt to elicit an emotional response from me.”

 

“You are neither human nor Vulcan, and therefore have no place in the universe.”

 

“Perhaps physical stimulation is required.” Jim was already moving in that direction, a frown settling on his face as one of the Vulcans shoved Spock.

 

“Look at his human eyes. They look sad.”

 

“He’s a traitor, your father, for marrying that human whore.” Well, that sealed it. Even as Spock attacked the leader of the group, Jim spun another around by his shoulder and punched him in the nose.

 

“On behalf of my race, I take offense.”

 

Of course, that started a whole shit storm that Spock ended up jumping in—not that Jim could blame him, given what the punks had said about his family.

 

A dislocated shoulder, one cracked knuckle, and two black eyes later, Jim was standing in front of the school’s principal, Spock at his side. The half-Vulcan, for his part, had only gained a split lip, bruised cheek, and bloody knuckles.

 

“Spock, son of Sarek, you acted most illogically to verbal threats.” Jim bit his lip and stepped forward.

 

“Permission to speak, sir?” The words echoed strangely  in the sparse, spacious office.

 

“Granted.”

 

“Sir, Spock only got into a physical altercation because I began it. As was only logical, he stepped in to defend me, a frailer human, from my own foolishness. Please, sir, he acted logically.”

 

“Indeed. Your defense is more logical than your actions, James Kirk. Why did you begin the fight?”

 

“They insulted my foster mother, Amanda Grayson, for her— _our_ —race, and—“

 

“Did any of your opponents initiate physical confrontation?”

 

“No, sir, however—“

 

“Then there was no logical reason for you to do so. I must say, Mr.Kirk, that perhaps Earth would, in fact, be more suitable for you.”

 

Spock would later inform Jim that he’d gone paler than a sickbay’s wall, and his eyes had taken on a glassy sheen. All Jim knew was that he felt painfully dizzy, and his mind was screaming _NONONONONO._

 

“Sir, I—No, I—sir—“ Spock would also mention that it was one of the few times he would ever hear Jim stammer.

 

“Sir, I request permission to speak,” Spock interjected.

 

“Granted.”

 

“I believe James’ reaction to the taunting directed at me implies that he does belong on Vulcan, rather than Earth.”

 

“Explain,” the elder Vulcan snapped, eyebrow raising.

 

“Loyalty is a trait greatly valued in our culture, particularly familiar loyalty. James assaulted those students to preserve me from perceived harm, as his foster brother. His methods were, inarguably, illogical, but I believe this a matter of ignorance, rather than an ill fit or cruelty.”

 

“Well said, Spock.” The principal was silent for a moment, considering the pale human in front of him.

 

“Ambassador Sarek and his bondmate will be informed of this, and you both are hereby restricted from any extracurriculars for two standard weeks.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Dismissed.”

 

Jim finally began to regain his color properly, smiling wanly at Spock.

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

 

“Thank you. Nobody has ever tried to make the bullies stop before,” Spock answered, eyes warm as they walked back from school.

 

“Of course I tried to get them to stop! You’re my brother, aren’t you?” Spock’s eyebrows raised slightly, and Jim crossed his arms defensively, uncertain what he’d said that had Spock looking at him like that.

 

“I suppose we are. I am glad that you are my brother, Jim.”

 

“I’m glad you’re my brother, too, Spock.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Peeks out from behind a corner* I'm SO SORRY. Okay, so what happened was, college got busy...then I lost the composition notebook that had this in it, then I got sucked into like eight other fandoms...anyway. I can't make any promises about this since I'm writing it from scratch now, but I do hope to keep going. If I ever decide to abandon it, I'm more than happy to let someone else take over...but for now, it's still my baby. My totally unbeta'd baby, but my baby. Enjoy!

To say that Jim fit into Vulcan society flawlessly would be a nothing less than untrue. While he learned self-control, he completely rebuffed the idea of no emotions. Instead, he just hid his emotions at school and in front of Vulcans, but at home, with the family that had quickly adopted him as their own, he was a rambunctious genius (to Amanda’s delight and Sarek’s consternation). More than once, after a few months with them, Jim was found surrounded by parts of their technology insisting “I can _fix_ it!”

 

The only person he wasn’t sure he’d won over was Sarek. Spock had reassured his new brother multiple times that his father “finds you perfectly suitable as a son, considering your humanity,” to which Jim had replied “yeah, it’s the humanity I think he has a problem with!”

 

It was six months into his stay with them that Jim realized that Spock had been right. He was sneaking out of bed, thanks to nightmares, when he overheard Sarek’s voice on the communicator. When he heard his _name_.

 

“I understand your concern, Mrs.Kirk. However, I can assure you James is being well-cared for here in our home. If you wish for human affirmation, my wife—“

 

“I don’t care about what your wife has to say! He is my son and I signed no parental waiver—“

 

“Given James’ reasoning abilities and maturity, it was deemed illogical to require a parental waiver, especially given that you were off planet at the time of his testing and his stepfather had failed to respond to the multiple requests for his presence.”

 

“He is _my son_ , and you can’t have him!”

 

“If I believed that this hysteria was in any way motivated by actual affection, I would return him to you with my best wishes. However, given the lack of any expressed homesickness on Jim’s part, the bruises he arrived on our planet with, and the fact that it has taken you six months to inquire as to his wellbeing, I am forced to believe that this is not, in fact, maternal affection but a vain attempt to preserve your own reputation and to exert your ownership over another living, sentient being.”

 

“How dare you! My son—“

 

“I am quite done listening, Mrs.Kirk, to whatever excuses you have come up with now. Let me make something clear to you: as long as he wishes, James will be a member of my household. To protect the reputation of your late husband and James himself, I will not push to have him formally taken from your family and given to mine; however, should you seek to take him from our home, I will be utilizing my own considerable resources and knowledge to keep him here. Not only that, but I will not hesitate to bring up charges of child abuse against your current spouse, as well as charges of reckless child endangerment and abandonment against you. As you know, the Federation has abolished the statute of limitations in regards to those charges.”

 

“Are you threatening me, Ambassador?”

 

“Vulcans do not threaten, Mrs. Kirk. I am simply exerting the logical precautions to protect a member of my family and a child from harm, utilizing all of the resources available to me. Do we have an understanding?”

 

“We do, Ambassador Sarek. But I will find a way to get my son out of that place, just you wait.”

 

“You are welcome to try. Good evening, Mrs. Kirk. Live long and prosper.” The call ended, and Jim slipped back upstairs, shaking Spock awake.  
  
“Jim, what is it?” Spock mumbled, swatting at his brother as he sleepily opened one eye.

 

“You were right.”  


“Regarding?”

 

“Your dad. He does like me. He just told my mom he’d fight to keep me.”

 

“Of course he would. You are a member of our family.”

 

“Yeah, but nobody has ever fought for me before. Nobody has ever wanted to.”

 

“We are Vulcan, Jim. We are not a violent race, but we protect our own. And you are a member of our family.”

 

“Yeah. Thanks, Spock. Good night.”

 

“Good night, Jim.”

 

It was the last Jim worried about his family getting rid of him, and it showed. He excelled in Vulcan schooling and took bizarre delight in confounding the machines that expected totally logical solutions and instead got Jim’s rather off-beat, but tactically sound strategies instead.

 

After six years, Jim was in the top ten percent of his class, confounding the heads of the school and of the program, all of whom had expected even the most intelligent of humans to struggle in their schooling, not thrive. While he wasn’t in the top 10, he was still above many of his Vulcan peers. Spock, of course, was at the top of his class, and Jim couldn’t be more proud of his brother.

 

Jim should have known, really, that good things don’t last that long. Not for him. He was walking home with Spock one day, talking animatedly with his drily amused brother about the kahs-wan that the other boy had coming up. He was telling him all the tricks to surviving that he knew of, and Spock was just nodding and reassuring his brother that he would be fine and that the Vulcan High Council monitors such trials anyway, so that the candidate does not die—it would be illogical, after all, to allow an admittedly outdated ceremony of manhood to cause the actual death of their already limited population of children.

 

Jim was so caught up in the conversation that he almost missed the two humans in the living room, talking to Spock and Amanda. Then he saw them and froze. Not recognizing the woman with the soft black curls framing a round, gentle face, or the man that had the same eyes as Jim himself, James immediately took a step back, shifting into the fighting stance he took when threatened.

 

“You can’t make me go back,” he said, glancing at Amanda and Sarek with wide eyes. “I’m officially under the care of the Vulcan High Council until I turn eighteen, and that can only be terminated through a full convening of that council and a hearing to which both my mother, my guardians here on Vulcan, and myself must be included—“  


“Jim, we aren’t here to take you back to Earth,” the man said, glancing at Amanda with wide eyes, clearly not expecting this level of hostility from the fourteen year old. “My name is James Kirk—uh, obviously, your parents sort of picked a name from both sides of the family. I’m your father’s brother. Your uncle. This is my wife, Samantha.”

 

“I don’t know you. Never met you before in my life. If you’re my family, why wouldn’t I have met you before? Ma was all about making sure I knew about my dad, why wouldn’t she take me to meet you?” His uncle grimaced, sharing a look with his wife, who spoke next. Her voice was gentle, and she took a step closer to Jim.

 

“Your mother was very…upset, after your father’s death. You wouldn’t know it, you were so young…but your Uncle James looks a great deal like your father. She said it was too hard to see him, so we kept our distance. We tried to call, later, but she was always off somewhere and her new husband…”

 

“Enough said,” Jim said, gaze cold as he thought about Frank. He shivered. “If you aren’t here to take me back to Earth, why are you here? I’ve got a family now.”

 

“We’re going to the Tarsus IV colony and…well, we’d like you to come with us,” James admitted after a moment. “We’ve been talking to your guardians, and they thought it would be a good idea. If you don’t like it, we’ll take you back here, I promise. But…Jim, you’ve spent six years with mostly Vulcans. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but…don’t you want to get to know humans that are actually good people?”

 

“It is logical for you to cultivate relationships among your own species. Even Amanda maintains close relations with her family and friends back on Earth,” Sarek explained, stepping forward. “Jim, you will always have a place among our family. You are our son in every way but blood, and that is not a commitment I make lightly. This is your decision, nobody else’s.”

 

Jim swallowed, glancing around them and then staring at his feet. Tarsus IV was a promising colony, even if the leader there was a little too hard ass for a lot of tastes. And this was an opportunity to learn about the father he’d never known, had only read about in history books.

 

“If I don’t like it, I can come back?” he asked after a long moment. “I can visit, even if I decide to stay?”

 

“Of course,” Samantha said, beaming. “Of course, James, of course you can. They’re your family. We have to respect that. We just—we just want to get to know you, get to know our nephew. And I hope—that is, _we_ hope that if you do decide to leave, you’ll keep in contact with us as well? Sarek and Amanda were telling us some of what your…first bit of time here was like. What probably happened before that. I swear, this isn’t like that. As long as there’s life in us, we’ll keep you safe.”

 

Jim nodded slowly, glancing at Sarek and Amanda uncertainly. “I…It’s logical, to make connections with my own species. But you’ll still…you still want me?”

 

Amanda nodded fiercely and went over to hug Jim tightly. “You will always be welcome here, Jim, I promise.” Jim hugged her back and then went up to pack. Spock hesitated, and then followed.

 

“I will not be in contact for a time, due to my Kahs-wan,” Spock said, standing in the doorway as Jim packed silently. “I do not wish for you to take my silence during that time as disinterest.”

 

“You have to call me as soon as you can when you get back, okay?” Jim said, blinking hard. “Tell me how it went, if you finished—I mean, obviously, you will, of course you will, but I want to know details.”

 

“Of course, Jim. And you will have to update me on what Tarsus is like, and what your aunt and uncle are like. They seem kind.” Spock paused. “I do not see any evidence to indicate that you will experience the cruelty at their hands that you experienced with your stepfather.”

 

“Yeah, I know. They’re good people, you can see it in their eyes.”

 

“Yet you are anxious. Why?”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Falsehood is not the Vulcan way, Jim, and such an obvious one does you little credit.” Jim wrinkled his nose at Spock, ignoring the raised eyebrow of his brother.

 

“It’s dumb.”

 

“I am given to understand from my mother that emotions are not to be judged, but simply exist. The treatment of them is what is to be judged, not the existence of the emotion itself. At least in terms of human emotions.” Jim huffed, shaking his head a little.

 

“What if they don’t like me?” he said finally, pausing in his packing and staring down at the shirts. “What if they just want me to be my dad and not me?”

 

“Then they do not deserve to be associated with you, and you will return here, where you are valued for who you are, not for who contributed to your creation.” Spock startled when he suddenly found his arms full of a teary-eyed Jim Kirk, blinking down at him in surprise.

 

“Thanks, Spock. You’re a good brother.”

 

“You are welcome, Jim. I am glad to have you as a brother as well.”

 

The next evening, Jim was saying goodbye to his adopted family of six years and getting on a shuttle with his aunt and uncle, bound for Tarsus IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Also, please note that the tags will be changed to reflect Tarsus IV being described in the next chapter--if you are going to be triggered my mentions of starvation and genocide and the like, I won't be changing too much of what happens, so feel free to skip the chapter if it bothers you too much!


	4. Tarsus IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: This chapter does include mention of genocide, although I tried not to get too graphic with it, there are mentions of blood, executions, starvation, etc. I tried to keep it somewhat oblique, but if you are uncomfortable with it, then either skip this chapter entirely or skip about halfway down to where Jim is picked up by Starfleet. 
> 
> EDIT: The last few sentences of this chapter have been removed for continuity. (This next chapter is being a pain in my keester. In order for it to flow like I want to, and include some things it needs to, I had to edit a bit. Sorry if there is a new notification because of the edit). 
> 
> Also, an explanation for my absence is down in the end notes.

_“Surrender now or face extermination._ ” Or. Ha. As if he was really being given a choice. Fifteen steps, go, breathe out. Breathe in. Computer, grab the wires, send out the distress signal.

 

Short. Short. Short.

Long. Long. Long.

Short. Short. Short.

 

An ancient code, harkening back to some of the most primitive human wars, but it had to work. It had to. He didn’t have anything else.

Keep running. Keep alive. Just stay _alive_.

* * *

 

The worst part was that he’d been happy.

 

Well. Not happy--he missed Spock, Sarek, and Amanda like a physical ache, but it had been good here. His aunt and uncle were kind, almost stiflingly so, and other humans were so fascinating to him, after so long among the Vulcans, and he found his stride after a few days. School was...ugh. School was horribly boring, after the challenge of Vulcan schooling, but the social interactions were something he secretly craved.

 

He had _friends_. People who liked him, and he swiftly picked up on how to make more people like him. Soon, he was one of the most popular students, and that was novel. He’d been a freak at his first school, an outsider at his second, but here? Here he was just a nice, brilliant, only a little bit odd, kid. He belonged.

 

True to their word, his Vulcan family kept in contact, with him calling them every week. Spock had gone out of contact after a couple of weeks to complete his Kahs-wan, and Jim tried not to worry, but even with that concern, he’d been happy.

 

His last call to them had been the only one overshadowed by any concerns.

 

“I’ve been spending some free time at school looking over some government data. They said it was okay, but...I dunno. Something doesn’t add up,” Jim had said quietly, having called late in the colony’s night cycle, but still during Vulcan’s daytime. “Something’s up with the food supply, and I just...you know that itch, in the back of your brain, that warns you something’s not right? That instinct? It’s screaming right now.”

 

“James, I know you want to help, but other people can look out for the colony,” Amanda had advised.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just think something’s wrong, and I could be the only one to see it. The people here are smart, but they’re not Vulcan trained to see anomalies. I just want to look into a little more. I don’t need some wanna-be eugenist messing things up here.” He’d smiled. He’d _laughed._

 

Three weeks later, word about the fungus got out. A week afterwards, the genetic testing began.

 

James Kirk, 38: Nonpreferred genetic status.

Samantha Kirk, 39: Nonpreferred genetic status

James T. Kirk, 14: Genetic status undetermined. Further testing required.

 

“It’s fine. We have time. They’re just determining who gets resources, is all,” Uncles James had whispered to them one night as Jim stared at his own designation, clutching a pillow as they all piled together on a bed. Yeah, Jim was too old to be in bed with his aunt and uncle, but this was a terrifying time. “Kodos isn’t crazy, even if he’s extreme. He wouldn’t just murder people. We’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

 

“Of course we will, darling,” Aunt Sam had assured her husband, and Jim had tried to believe them.

 

Three days later, the guards gathered up all the Nonpreferreds and executed them. One clean shot to the head, and Jim couldn’t even scream as Uncle James’ kind eyes went dark, as Aunt Sam’s dark curls turned crimson. He just stared.

 

He’d never seen anyone die before.

 

Someone touched him, to comfort or to control he wasn’t sure, and he was running. He’d been running ever since then, sending out brief snatches of communication to the galaxy  because he had to do something. He couldn’t--they wouldn’t leave him. Sarek and Amanda would find him, they would save him. Weeks passed, and Jim grew weaker and weaker. The little food he’d managed to hide was long gone, and only the chaos of everything kept him even slightly safe. With riots in the streets, he could occasionally steal food from the houses, could slip away from security that was hunting him.

 

He still remembered Kodos. He’d met the governor briefly when they arrived. Kodos had wanted to meet the young prodigy the Vulcans had adopted. He’d been kind. Fatherly.

 

If Jim had had anything in his stomach, he would have thrown it up at the thought.

* * *

 

Finally, after running away from the demanding sirens, from the voices shouting him, he found a safe little corner, hidden from the world, and tucked himself in there. Sleep wasn’t entirely a refuge, but for a time, it at least hurt less. His skin no longer itched and burned from the chemicals they used to try and slow down escaping Nonpreferreds, his stomach no longer cramped with hunger, his fever--probably his body’s reaction to all the toxins surrounding him-- was only a niggling concern. The slight respite from all that was worth seeing the bodies of the first round of executions in his nightmares, watching them be taken to a chamber to be disposed of like waste.

 

Jim wasn’t sure how long he slept. He was vaguely aware that his fever was worse, and that he was swiftly slipping away, but he couldn’t care anymore. He was so tired, and he just wanted to go _home_. Home, where it was too hot and their pets were giant creatures with huge teeth and claws, but at least things made sense there. At least home was safe. He got fed there, he could sleep without fear.

 

But he knew that, after over three weeks of him sending out messages, of him begging for help from anyone that could reach them, nobody was coming. It wasn’t really a surprise. Last time his life had been in danger, he’d had to get himself out, and he knew that he couldn’t really rely on anyone else anyway, but...how could he get himself out of here? He couldn’t. Maybe this time…

 

He wondered if Spock had completed his Kahs-wan. He must have--he’d been training and studying like crazy, and the time had passed for him to complete it. Still, he wondered. He wondered if they knew about what was happening here, or if they thought he just wasn’t answering his communicator. He wondered if they’d called him, and drifted off to sleep with a familiar sick feeling of _“they probably don’t even care…_ ”

 

He woke up to someone touching him, and he immediately lashed out. Sickly, starving, and weak, and he still fought like a wildcat. “Easy, son, easy! We’re here to help, we’re--fuck!” He’d managed a blow somewhere soft, like he’d been trained, and he scrambled out of his hiding place to start running.

 

“Wait! Shit, catch him!”  
“He’s fucking slippery, sir, how they hell--ugh!”  
“Just sedate him, for shit’s sake, before he hides somewhere else! I’m sorry son, but this is for your own good…” He bit and scratched and punched, but he wasn’t able to stop the hypo as his body slowed down.Was this what it felt like to die? He didn’t want to, didn’t want to, didn’t want to...

 

Jim’s first time waking up was fuzzy, and he couldn’t even open his eyes fully, just hearing snatches of conversation around him

“ _...worse off..the others.”_ _  
_ _“I know. The …. listed as NonPref, and... first round of executions. It would explain why he ran.”_

_“...just a kid...how can someone execute a kid?”_

_“Kodos is a sick fuck, is how. Hell, we dont’ even know his name if he dies….”_

 

The next time Jim was awake, he was a bit more aware, although the conversation from before was still present in his mind as he blinked his eyes open to find someone in a Starfleet uniform looking at him. His eyes flitted around wildly as he tried to sit up and found himself entirely unable to.  
  
“Take it easy, there. You’ve been through a lot. Here, drink. How are you feeling?” Jim just stared at the woman, eyes dark and wary, and he didn’t touch the water. He knew better. This could be faked. He wasn’t going to die quietly. He didn’t know why they hadn’t just killed him when they had him before, but he wasn’t going to give them the chance to this time.

 

“Honey? I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I swear, you’re safe. We’re with the Federation, and we came here after receiving some coded signals and messages. We had no idea what happened here, not the full extent, but I promise. There’s no more lists, no more danger. We just need to notify your family.” His family. Spock. Sarek. Amanda. “Do...Do you have a family, sweetie?”

 

Jim just stared at her. He’d be damned if he was going to give any of them the names of his family, or if he even had one. He wasn’t sure what their game was here, but he wasn’t going to give up the only people in the galaxy who still mattered to him. He wasn’t.

 

The woman sighed and turned around to set the water down, and that was when Jim saw his chance. Summoning what little strength he had and a lot of willpower, he was up and sprinting for the doors before she even turned around. She immediately called security, of course, but he was out the doors and looking for a way out. He heard boots and turned the other way, finding a vent and climbing up into it.

 

He was still for a bit, listening. Thump-thump-thump-thump. _“Where would he even go? You said he was too weak to leave his bed, Christine!”_

 

_“He was, Captain! He couldn’t even sit up, his vitals showed signs of profound exhaustion and strain, he had chemical burns on half of his body and allergic reactions on the other half, his breathing was compromised, and to top it all off, he was half-starved to death! He shouldn’t even be awake right now!”_

 

_“Did you get his name? Family? Anything?”_

 

_“I’m not even sure if he understood me, sir. He didn’t respond.”_

 

_“Fine. Just...Commander, lock down the ship. I don’t want him finding his way to the transporter rooms and ending up back on that fucking hell of a planet, understood? The last thing he needs is to accidentally run across the people that did this to him.”_

 

Jim listened to the conversation as it moved farther away, frowning. People that did this to him? Weren’t _they_ the people that did this to him? Maybe this was them distancing themselves from Kodos’ crimes. It was a psychological phenomenon, after all, to avoid the uncomfortable guilt of being party to genocide.

 

But...transporter rooms? Those were only really found on Starfleet vessels, at least in this quadrant of the galaxy. Maybe if he got there, he could program them to take him somewhere safe. Not Tarsus, he wasn’t an idiot, but he could find a familiar designation. Perhaps the ship his mother was on, or a nearby Vulcan ship. He could be safe there.

 

Goal in mind, he started creeping around the vents, freezing anytime he heard voices. It was slow going, and he could feel exhaustion sinking deep, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. Stopping wasn’t an option, giving up sure as hell wasn’t one, so he kept on going.

 

Still, exhaustion was the most likely reason he didn’t see the loose panel, and God hating him was the mostly likely reason that he fell in the middle of a group of people. There was a moment of shock on both sides, and then Jim lashed out and started running.

 

“Dammit! Not this again! Catch him!” Turn left, turn right, look for an escape--”Oomph!” Okay, he hadn’t seen this person coming.

 

“Quick, ambassador, hold him! He’s needed back at medical!” Oh. Hell. No. Jim fought viciously, only to freeze when the person holding him crouched down--still holding his shoulders firmly--and looked him in the face.

 

“D-Dad?” That wasn’t right. Sarek had always been Father, Sir, or Sarek, never Dad, but right now, Jim couldn’t care enough to fix it. If the stunned, nearly _emotional_ expression on Sarek’s face was any indication, Sarek didn’t care enough to correct him either.

 

“James? Jim?” the Vulcan asked, squeezing a little bit too tightly, reaching up to touch Jim’s face. The touch brought a mind with it, gently brushing across Jim’s mind, but even that slight touch had Jim recoiling just a bit before he found himself being tightly embraced. After a moment of shock, Jim returned it, clinging to his family.

 

He wasn’t sure when the tears started, but the next thing he was aware of was harsh sobs wracking his body. “You are safe now, James, I promise. You are safe. We are going home,” Sarek murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I know I've been gone a few months... *checks date* Um. YEARS. 
> 
> Sorry? I, honest to God, forgot about this story after losing any inspiration for it whatsoever, until a couple of people commented about how much they liked it and wanted to see it continued. So that got it back in my head, and, with fresh eyes, I could write again!! Yay! So if this seems completely different in tone and purpose than the last three chapters...yeah!! That's why!!!
> 
> Seriously, though, is there anyone who is interested in maybe coauthoring this with me, or at least betaing? I do love this story, but I am a very fickle writer and need someone to kick me in the butt every now and again to get it going. Also, even with my being nearly done with my first year of teaching, I can't guarantee that my life isn't going to get hectic again and cause my writing to fall by the wayside. Please message me if you are interested!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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